Fine Lines
by Involuntary-black-sheep
Summary: Aw, 'tis AziCrowley angst! A drunk Crowley oversteps the bounderies, leaving one miserable Aziraphale. R&R! FINISHED! CA slash contained herein.
1. Where it all went wrong

**Author's Notes: **I don't own anything in this, except for perhaps the idea. Good Omens and the characters herein are © gNeil and pTerry. No offense is meant, so if you are the authors (or their lawyers), please don't sue. Also, I attempted to mimic the writing style in GO, hence the use of footnotes.

**Fine Lines**

Aziraphale decided that alcohol, as well as sugar, _had_ to be the product of the Other Side. Dealing with a drunk and sugar high Crowley was giving him a headache.

"So there was this…" the demon gestured, trying to formulate the right word.

"Bar? Post? Stick?" the angel tried.

Crowley suddenly burst into giggles, for no apparent reason. "No…thas' not it…" he slurred.

"Then _what _is it!" Aziraphale exclaimed, getting tired of Crowley, trying to repeat some joke he had heard. This was the fifth time.

"Fence!" the demon snapped his fingers and grinned. "Yeah! Ssso there wasss thisss fence-"

The angel cut him off. "Dear, 1 you're hissing."

"Oh? I am? Ssssorry, Angel 2." "I'm a demon, we're ssssuppossssed to hisss…" he grinned.

"What has gotten into you, Crowley?!" Azirphale demanded.

"The wine…" Crowley smirked. "And Angel?"

"What?" he snapped.

"There'sss sssomething on your face…"

The mildly vain Azi flushed and began rubbing at his face.

"No, no, you're missing it entirely. Here, let me," the demon giggled, willing the sugar out of his system and lazily straddled the now bright red angel.

"You're so messssy…" he mumbled drunkenly, licking his thumb and dragging it across the nonexistent smudge on Aziraphale's face.

The angel squirmed and swallowed nervously.

"Ssssomething wrong, Angel?" he purred, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Get off!" he growled, or as best as an angel could, fighting back alarm. It was rare that a demon (or an angel for that matter) tried to be any gender…but it seemed that Crowley was trying very hard. (No pun intended.)

"GET OFF!" he said louder, feeling sick to his stomach.

"Oh ssshussh…." Crowley hissed, leaning in to kiss the flustered angel.

Azi responded with a yelp and shoved the demon off his lap.

"YOU FOUL TEMPTER!" he cried, hugging his knees.

Crowley sobered up immediately, seeing the look on Azirphale's face. "Angel?" he tilted his head to the side.

"Get out!" he shouted. "GET OUT!"

" 'Zira…" the demon tried again, his voice soft.

"GET. OUT!" Azirphale screamed, his eyes tearing up.

Crowley felt a sudden pang of guilt. 3 "Angel…" he winced visibly at the fear in Aziraphale's eyes. "All right, all right, I'm getting out…" he turned around, and in a blink of an eye, was gone. The angel let out a single sob, burying his face in his knees.

_I'm falling…I have to be….Because…I wanted to kiss him back…_

1 & 2 I take those quotes from the book itself.

3 But the feeling was lost on Crowley, for it had been thousands of years since he had a conscience.


	2. Forgive us who trespass

**Author's Notes: **I don't own anything in this, except for perhaps the idea. Good Omens and the characters herein are © gNeil and pTerry. No offense is meant, so if you are the authors (or their lawyers), please don't sue. Also, I attempted to mimic the writing style in GO, hence the use of footnotes.

_Crowley__ felt a sudden pang of guilt. "Angel…" he winced visibly at the fear in Aziraphale's eyes. "All right, all right, I'm getting out…" he turned around, and in a blink of an eye, was gone. The angel let out a single sob, burying his face in his knees._

_I'm falling…I have to be….Because…I wanted to kiss him back…_

**Fine Lines: Chapter 2**

As a rule, Angels loved mostly everything and everyone. Humans, beasts, birds 1, everything. The only thing angels didn't love were demons. Aziraphale knew this, and knew this well. Demons were nothing but tempters and hell raisers 2...Except Crowley. That was his problem. He tried as hard as he could to hate Crowley, but he just couldn't. For a while, he chalked it up to knowing him so long that hatred was no longer an option. After all, how could he hate Crowley and expect the Arrangement to work? As of late, it was worrying him to no end. He began to wonder, what was it about Crowley that he didn't hate? That sent him down the path that got him into his current state. What was it about Crowley that he didn't like? He would sink the occasional duck, cause the occasional mild fender bender, combust the occasional traffic officer 3, but that made life 4 more interesting. Ever since the drunken demon had kissed him, a cold dread had taken over. He had closed down the bookshop and confined himself to a tiny corner in the back, hugging his knees and whimpering. He was utterly convinced that he had fallen, and that it would be only a matter of time that he was kicked out to the Downstairs.  
  
Meanwhile, across town, a certain demon was finding that he was missing something. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was definitely something. Sighing, Crowley flipped on the TV A commercial was on, advertising angel food cake. Angel food cake…angel! He groaned inwardly. So _that's _what he had been missing. The angel he so foolishly hit on a week before. He closed his eyes, the events that led to his current banishment from the bookshop replaying in his head.

He had practically molested Aziraphale. He had purposely tried to become male, kissed him (quite deeply), he had tried to tempt an angel. This led to Aziraphale screaming at him, forcing him out. He had caused the angel to cry.

Crowley gave an involuntary shudder, remembering with almost painful clarity the tears that had pricked in his angel's eyes.

_His?_He scolded himself. Aziraphale was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Besides, tempting is what demons do. Not to mention pissing off angels.

_Perhaps I should make up with him… _He stopped, dropping the remote and yelped as it landed on his foot. Make up? Demons were supposed to mess with angels and piss them off and all that, a voice reminded him. Not go over to their odd bookshops and apologize. But this was _Aziraphale_another voice argued. Yes, this _was _Aziraphale, the only one from either Side to ever really want anything to do with him anyway. He sighed 5 and pushed his sunglasses up his nose, deciding to pay his friend 6 a visit. He grabbed his keys 7, trotted out to the Bentley, and drove over to the infamous 8 bookshop. Ignoring the closed sign, the demon knocked loudly on the door. "Aziraphale! It's me! Open the door!" he shouted and turned the knob, but as he figured, it was locked. "Azi…!" he frowned, realizing he almost sounded desperate. "Angel, _please_ open the door!" All he got was the sound of something glass falling. He sighed and went around back, knowing no one would see him mysteriously vanish. He appeared in front of the angel, who was sitting in the chair, his head in his hands.

"Oh, angel…" he frowned, trying not to stare at the red and puffiness of Aziraphale's eyes.

Aziraphale jumped and stared wide-eyed up at Crowley. "Get out!" he said shakily. "Get out!"

"Aziraphale, I'm so sorry…"

He was regarded with a blank, hurt look.

"Please, Angel, let me explain…"

"I'm not an angel anymore…" came the faint and slightly muffled reply.

"What?!" Crowley had a sudden rush of guilt. "Oh, Go-Sa-whatever…you can't be serious!"

"It's true…it just has to be…" Aziraphale mumbled.

"You mean…er…you don't know for sure…?" Well there was some hope…

"I…well…I just have to have fallen!!" He sounded close to hysterics.

"Why's that? You didn't kiss me back or anything, you pushed me away and sent me out!"

"Well…ah…" the angel trailed off, mumbling, his face now bright red.

"What's that?" Crowley tilted his head, looking curious.

"I said that Iwantedtokissyouback," he said so fast that Crowley almost didn't catch it.

Crowley stared, dumbstruck. "You….what?" he said finally.

"I said I wanted to kiss you back!" Aziraphale's voice cracked and he dissolved into tears again.

By this point, the demon looked positively speechless. He opened his mouth, shut it again, opened, shut it…he stopped when he realized he looked like a fish out of water. "Angel…" he said softly, crouching down next to him. "Can I see your wings?"

"Why? So you can marvel at your handiwork?" he sniffed bitterly.

Crowley looked almost hurt, but shrugged it off. "No…Aziraphale, please…"

Sighing dejectedly, he opened his wings, not even bothering to shake them out. Crowley smiled faintly, running his hand just above the wingtips of Aziraphale's messy wings. "Angel…you're still an angel…"

"You can't be serious, you're just saying that!!" the now confirmed angel snapped.

"Come here," the demon offered his hand, looking sincere. 9

Aziraphale shook his head stubbornly.

"Please?" Crowley was the master of persuasion, and Azi was falling hard for the puppy dog eyes he was receiving. He took Crowley's hand, looking like he really did want to, but was faking like he didn't, and let Crowley lead him to a mirror in the front room.

"See, angel? You still have your wings, messy as ever."

Aziraphale stared at his wings in the mirror, flexed them, turned his head to stare at Crowley, then stared back at himself, a small smile forming on his face. "But…I…I…"

Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale's shoulder. "You can only love, angel…"

He turned to face the demon. "But….I can't love a demon!" he faltered. _Can I?_

Crowley quickly stepped back, feeling hurt for a brief moment. _I must be going soft. Too much time on Earth._

Azi hugged himself, looking both pleased and bemused. "I…ah…thank you, Crowley…I needed that…" he smiled.

Crowley nodded and decided that he needed to do some serious thinking concerning Aziraphale and himself and his feelings towards the said angel. "Well…I think I left the stove on…" he said stupidly.

"All right, Crowley, see you around," Aziraphale was thinking along the same lines as Crowley in terms of figuring out how he really felt about the demon.

"Yeah…and Angel?"

"Hm?"

"Wanna have lunch tomorrow?"

"Of course, dear. Around 12:30?"

"That's fine. Bye, Angel."

"Bye, Crowley." Aziraphale groaned when Crowley disappeared into thin air. He _hated _it when the demon did that.

Read and review!

1: even the annoying songbirds that wake you up at 6am on the only day you have off/are able to sleep in.  
2: but that was their job anyway.  
3: neither one still had quite figured out what Side had created them.  
4: not that angels were alive, but it made life around the angel more interesting.

5: it wasn't exactly a sigh, since he didn't have breathe, more like something that could be considered a sigh, if in fact he actually had to breathe.

6: or as much of one as could be defined by the demon.

7: he really didn't _need _the keys, he just had them for show.

8: though it was impossible for anything run by an angel to be infamous really.

9: which of course ended up looking slimy and devious, since demons weren't supposed to look sincere.


	3. Strangest Twist Upon Your Lips

**Author's Notes: **I don't own anything in this, except for perhaps the idea. Good Omens and the characters herein are © gNeil and pTerry. No offense is meant, so if you are the authors (or their lawyers), please don't sue. Also, I attempted to mimic the writing style in GO, hence the use of footnotes.

_"Wanna have lunch tomorrow?"_

_"Of course, dear.__ Around 12:30?"_

_"That's fine. Bye, Angel."_

_"Bye, Crowley." Aziraphale groaned when Crowley disappeared into thin air. He hated it when the demon did that_

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**Fine Lines: Chapter Three**

Aziraphale sighed and examined his immaculate nails for the nth time. Crowley was late, _again. _Not that he ever expected the demon to be early or on time, but it still bothered him. Taking a sip from the cup of cocoa (the angel had such a penchant for sweet things) he glanced out the window, watching the drizzle turn to an unexpected thunderstorm, people dashing for cover. He wondered if the thunderstorm was Crowley or just a natural storm.

"If Crowley did what?" a sopping wet demon asked, sitting down across of the angel.

Aziraphale blushed faintly; he hadn't realized that he had spoken aloud. "Nothing, my dear…just pondering the weather."

"Ah." With a flick of his wrist, the demon was dry, making Aziraphale wince. "Really, Angel, there's no need to get upset, no mortal will have noticed _that._"(1)

"I…well…I ordered us both a cup of cocoa." Aziraphale pushed the still steaming cup in front of Crowley, avoiding his gaze.

"Thank whomever for small miracles," Crowley grinned in amusement, the angel kept his cocoa warm for him.

"Yeh., sure." 'Zira traced a mindless pattern on the table, drawing something in the bit of spilled cocoa.

"Aziraphale, if I didn't know you any better, I would think you're avoiding me," Crowley declared after a short(2) silence passed between them.

"How can I avoid you if I'm sitting right here?!" Aziraphale snapped and then stared blankly at his cocoa mug.

"'Zira…" the demon said in an annoyed tone. "What's gotten into you? You know as well as I that you haven't fallen, so what's the matter?"

Aziraphale sighed. "Nothing—it's just—nothing, nevermind." Draining the last of his drink, he stood and started for the door.

"Wait. Stop." Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm and turned him around to face him. His sunglasses had disappeared momentarily, and snake eyes bored into deep cerulean ones.

"Let go of me!" the angel demanded, once he had gotten over the sudden shock of seeing Crowley's eyes.

"No. Not letting you go until you tell me what has you all out of sorts, Angel."

Aziraphale decided that he was imagining the concern in Crowley's voice and shook his head. "There's nothing wrong, therefore, there's nothing to tell."

"Aziraphale! If you don't tell me what's got you so upset, I'll…I'll ruin the ending to that mystery novel you're reading!"

"You wouldn't!" the angel glared as venomously as an angel could.(3)

"I would, and I will. It was Sir Pa-" Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale's sounds of defeat.

"Ok, ok, fine. Don't laugh, demon, or I'll never speak to you again," he said haughtily.

"Get on with it."

" 'm in love with you, Crowley," he mumbled, staring at his shoes. "Angels are supposed to love everything, love thy neighbor and all, but that doesn't matter, does it? You're a blessed _demon_; you wouldn't love anyone, let alone an angel. You _can't, _you demons are all about Sins of the Flesh and all that."

Crowley had to suppress a sudden laugh. "Angel, you've got it all wrong. Demons aren't _supposed _to love. When have I ever followed the rules right?"

Aziraphale glanced up at Crowley. "You're saying…"

"That I love you, Angel, yes." Crowley smiled. "Can I kiss you, or will you spaz?"

Aziraphale laughed musically and answered the demon by kissing him first.

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1: No one noticed, except for an odd fellow in the corner who proceeded to send the story to the National Enquirer, and therefore, was regarded by the general public as a nutter.

2: Short being a very relative term in terms of two immortal beings.

3: Which was not at all. In fact, it was more of a vauge attempt at being an annoyed look.


End file.
